No future
by Penwarrior
Summary: Another short piece (sorry!) There arn't any youkai in Kagome's time - Kouga considers the implications.


Hmm…well, it's another short one, guys, sorry. :o) I will make my muse available to you all for beating. The reviews have pretty consistently suggested longer fics, and I would if I could! The thing is, longer stuff really needs a plot and, well – I don't have one! Yet. These fics are really just a hobby and a way for me to blow off steam or work out stuff that stuck in my mind, so they do tend to be short and, well…less than actiony. So I hope you don't get too bored or impatient.

Anyway, as to this fic specifically, I like it less than my other two, and some of the thoughts might be more sophisticated than what we are used to seeing in Kouga, but darnit, I like him. He's a leader, he has to have some deep thoughts, at least some of the time.

I have now officially finished rambling, and I promise not to do so for quite so long next time. I just wanted to reassure the reviewers that I am listening, and thanks a bunch to all of you! 

***

Five hundred years…wasn't such a long time.

Kouga sat apart from his only two living packmates, and brooded, staring blankly off toward the campfire that he could still see from the top of the hill he had claimed for the night. Kagome slept there with her hanyou guardian and human friends, completely unaware how what she'd told him made him feel. Somehow, he'd never thought they were being quite so literal when they said she came from another world. Another time, he corrected in his mind.

The wolf leader was still young, for a youkai, and with most of his life still in front of him, five hundred years didn't seem like very long at all. In five hundred years, the mountain would belong to his grandchildren, or possibly even his children. Not that far off, really.

Except that in five hundred years, the world would be overrun with humans, and youkai would be nothing but fables. Or else his grandchildren would be hiding somewhere deep in some tiny territory the humans hadn't invaded yet, weak and fearful. 

Kouga blew out a breath in disgust and frustration. As if he needed his life to get any more depressing. And all this was assuming he lived through the final battle with Naraku to sire any children and grandchildren in the future.

At the thought he inhaled deeply, testing the wind for any sign of Naraku's scent. It had become almost a nervous habit, though it almost never yielded results. He knew his packmates were frustrated with his constant searching apparently at random, but he had to have something to keep his mind occupied. Life was becoming much too complicated lately. To be honest, if he could go back to the war with the demon-birds, he would. Even when he reminded himself how they had to scrape and fight, how they were being picked off and pared down little by little. He'd been so frustrated, back then. 

He was so frustrated now, in fact. Damn that Naraku anyway. He knew his packmates were tired of running all over the country with very little success, but Kouga couldn't bear to stay at the mountain and wait for word. He couldn't defend it anyway, with a three-member pack. Probably someone else's pack would drift in, and set up shop. Kouga's teeth bared at the thought. Well, let him. Then he'd kick the leader's ass off his damn mountain.

Well, it would get him a new clan, at least. Then he'd take down dogface and carry Kagome back with him in triumph.

Then they'd all be killed sometime in the next five hundred years, and it would all be for nothing. Kouga nearly laughed at the absurdity, the futility of it all. He wondered if Kagome's friends had figured that out. Well, they were all a bunch of youkai-hunters anyway. Humans who wouldn't care if every last youkai dropped off the face of the planet, as long as their precious dog-eared hanyou stuck around until they all fell over from good old human old age.

Kouga frowned and sniffed the air. A youkai was approaching them, and he could smell blood on it. 

His lips pulled back in a feral grin. Good. He felt like killing something. These depressing thoughts could wait. The youkai race wasn't going to end tomorrow. He had five hundred years to contemplate the fate of his descendants. The here and now ought to be more than enough to hold his attention for quite a while yet.


End file.
